


(Rewind)<<<When the Second Hand Returns to Eight

by speakgreektome (epicionly)



Category: Kingdom Hearts
Genre: Canon Compliant, Gen, POV Second Person, Time Loop
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-26
Updated: 2016-08-26
Packaged: 2018-08-11 03:10:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,467
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7873861
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/epicionly/pseuds/speakgreektome
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Axel relives the events of KH2 over and over again.</p>
            </blockquote>





	(Rewind)<<<When the Second Hand Returns to Eight

**Author's Note:**

  * For [yourhandiheld](https://archiveofourown.org/users/yourhandiheld/gifts).



> Play [Amber Run's I Found](https://www.youtuberepeat.com/watch?v=PbSZhGONRBg).

“Axel, what were you trying to do?”

Isn’t that a loaded question. You tried to do a lot of things. You _were_ a lot of things. But the most of all, you—

 **“I wanted to see Roxas,”** you say.

 **“He…was the only one I liked…”** you confess.

**“He made me feel…like I had a heart.”**

He made you feel alive. That there was something more than your existence. That you were back to that time years ago, when you were whole.

You would’ve burned Organization XIII for Roxas, but that’s not true, is it? Because you didn’t, except you did in the end. This is the end.

This is _your_ end.

**“It’s kind of funny.”**

As funny is. You thought only Nobodies could connect with Nobodies, but gee, even Roxas’s Somebody is sure special, isn’t he? Getting you to talk when you didn’t this entire time.

**“You make me feel…the same.”**

Must be that death thing. Makes chatty people of everyone, even if you can’t be called a person.

Your last selfish thought is that you should’ve told Roxas the same things that you just told Sora. The heart, you know. Roxas always felt so strongly with his heart.

You couldn’t have known better, anyway. You don’t have one.

 _What_ , you want to say, _sad to see me finally go?_

It’d be awful to rub it in, wouldn’t it? You wish you’d helped him. You wish you’d said, _yeah, we’ll run_ , when—who was it? Who wanted to just run away from all of this?

**That’s enough now. Help him.**

You struggle but you manage.

**Take what little darkness you have before you fade away.**

There's a corridor marked specifically for you—because see, there’s all these little tricks and _funny now, how Roxas after all this time had never mastered the Corridors of Darkness like you had to._ Let’s get him a safe one. Safe one.

Yeah, this one.

**“Kairi’s in the castle dungeon. Now go.”**

You’re fading.

And when Nobodies fade, they die.

**ORIGINAL END.**

 

I.

“So, boss, you called for me?”

Xemnas turns to look at you. Yeesh. You never did understand the need for the dramatic turns, but it works; your nerves are frazzled faster than a high-speed train and you tense yourself when he gestures to you, slow with his palm open.

“Axel,” he says calmly. “Our humble knight.”

“A knight?” You repeat, exasperated, and fold your arms. The Superior always has a way of getting under your skin with just one look. The words shouldn’t mean anything, but the hairs on your arms raise up regardless. “Come on. At least give me a better label. I’m not exactly walking in armour here.”

“No, certainly not.” Xemnas smiles. “Much too impractical for you.” His eyes often look off, as though trapped in a distant time.

You clear your throat. If you’re going to be turned into a Dusk, you’d rather it be on your terms. “Any particular reason you called? Kind of busy cleaning out the trash, if you know what I mean.” Any kind of trash, really. You’ve followed what little self-preservation instincts Lea possessed and you’re not about to lose it this far into it. “Boss?”

At first, you think he hasn’t heard you. Then: “It has come to my attention that you’ve been rather busy helping Sora.”

His entire attention is turned to the great big Heartful sky that’s been bugging you since day one. It pulls at you, attracts you in a way that wants you to step closer; Lea always hated the unknown, and you don’t really like the idea of something that compels you when you don’t even know how it works.

And say, isn’t it odd, that there it’s just the two of you here? Usually the boss likes audiences.

**Don’t. Tense. He’ll know.**

“Didn’t know you and the number two shared notes,” you say, as forcefully casually as you can.

The corridors. Open a corridor.

**Don’t.**

“And I wouldn’t really call it helping. You know me. I like to tease the kid.”

“Oh, Axel,” Xemnas says, and he’s smiling now, like a benevolent father who has found out that the prodigal son has returned. “You’ll find there’s a lot I know about you. For example—”

He kills you.

“You can’t have everything.”

You fade.

**DEAD END.**

II.

You avoid the summons the second time around. Or rather, you avoid taking same route you did. Instead of helping Sora at Castle Oblivion so that he doesn’t find Naminé but Riku instead, you skip out on it entirely.

Xigbar tracks you down at the clock tower, master of space that he is.

“Tiger’s got spunk,” he says, all teeth, and helps himself to one of the sea salt ice creams.

You tense. There’s something he has against Roxas, and so far, this has all been about Roxas. Roxas is the focal point; the endgame is that Roxas makes it alive.

“Yeah?” you say, after a bit. “That’ll be two of us. So why the sudden house call?”

“Let me tell you something, Flamesilocks,” Xigbar says, as he points his rifles to your head. “A little helpful advice, because I like you a lot farther than I can throw you.”

“Wouldn’t be too far,” you drawl, flicking your wrist at him. A curl of flame turns into a chakram that taps one of the nozzles away from your ear. You could hit him as fast he does you—not that you’ve tried it before. “I’m ticklish.”

Xigbar likes to take things easy; there aren’t many things that take his interest enough for him to act on, and you’ve a bad feeling about this. A number so close to Xemnas’s, but he’s put on missions, got less authority than Saïx and Marluxia.

“The boss has his eye on you. Seems you didn’t report to Castle Oblivion.”

“Got a cold,” you says, taking a casual bite of your ice cream. “Wouldn’t want to get everyone sick.”

“Axel, Axel, Axel.” He paces behind you. “You’re smart. Smarter than you let on. You know you should have stayed. You know what he wanted.”

“Oh, I don’t know.” Your eyes follow him, but you adopt a nonchalant slouch. “Any smarter and Vexen would take offense.”

“ _Ha._ Good.” Xigbar’s lone eye bears into you. “Organization XIII recruited you for a reason, and good old X-Face gave you a job.”

“What’s the advice?”

He only grins harder, looking thrilled at how snippy you’ve gotten. “Try not to get too attached to your favourite Keyblade bearer and our little Poppet. Seems we’ve got big plans.”

“Why tell me this?”

“Dunno, could be useful.”

He doesn’t kill you.

**CONTINUE?**

III.

When you take the two of them and run, they send Xaldin after you. You have no doubt who clued him in on your movements, but you’re hard pressed to guess the agenda anyway.

You’re dealt with in a matter of moments. Roxas faded only seconds before, because Xaldin does not hold back. Bad luck. Xion lays crumpled in the corner, unmoving. She will, you guess, be taken back. They only need one Keyblade bearer to complete Kingdom Hearts, anyway.

**You couldn’t do anything. You couldn’t save him.**

“Nothing personal, you understand,” Xaldin says as he looks at you; his lances have pierced your torso in the same place as where your heart would’ve been had you one. This would make one heck of a metaphor about blank spaces. “But we can’t have traitors.”

“Watch your back.” You grin, lackluster, full of teeth. “I’ll be filling out Dissatisfied on my customer survey form.”

Xaldin’s hearty laughter follows your last words.

You fade.

**DEAD END.**

 

IV.

You’ve never even really disliked Vexen, though you did find him…vexing, at times.

Nothing personal. Just a little job. You didn’t even want to kill him, but he knew the rules. You’ve got one job and everybody knows it: eliminate the traitor with flexibility on the plural or singular.

**Even he knew he wasn’t supposed to do that.**

**“We are just Nobodies who have nobody to be, yet we still ‘are’.”** Vexen recognizes the words, because those were his own once upon a time. His eyes grow comically wider. “ **But now you can be nothing instead of just being a Nobody. You’re off the hook.”**

He’s frightened. You remember this, how little you felt about it. How insignificant one Nobody fading was. You didn’t care about anything at the time because you couldn’t feel anything.

**“No… Please don’t! I don’t want to—”**

“ **Goodbye.”** Flat, easy. Fire burns ice, and there is no lost love between you. With a snap of your fingers, he fades just as fast.

**Not all things change, you know. There are always constants.**

You live.

**CONTINUE?**

 

~~IV.~~

Sora kills you because you linger. Won’t come with you, just like Roxas wouldn’t because you asked too late and he had no reason to come with you, not without Xion.

**There’s your answer to what you are.**

You fade.

**DEAD END.**

IV.

You don’t burn Vexen. You trap him in a Corridor of Darkness. He can leave, but you’ll chase him for as long as it takes. You’re stronger than Vexen. The Dusk answer to you, and so will the Assassin Nobodies. He won’t stand a chance, and he knows this.

“I could have killed you,” you say, voice lilting. “But you know me. Decisions, decisions.”

Can’t run with Roxas and Xion, or else Xaldin will hunt all of you down.

Can’t take Roxas without Xion.

Can’t kill Vexen in front of Sora or else he won’t come with you so you can reunite him with Riku.

There is no way to win, and you need to blow off some steam.

You’re not such a heartfelt person. No heart, no real hint at success. This won’t make you feel better, but at least you’ll keep under the radar for now because Vexen was supposed to fade anyway.

**He always dies.**

“Are you threatening me?” Vexen demands. Always for the dramatics, Vexen is. “No…you want me alive. For something.”

Give an inch, take a mile. Such is the way of Vexen. Just as a warning, you flick your wrist so that a casual stream of flame can circle it.

He draws back immediately. “No—”

“Fire would make you fade awfully fast, wouldn’t you agree? Probably almost right away, since that’s all it takes to melt ice.” You don't wait for a response, watching it blaze at your fingers. “What was it you said before? Just exactly like your Riku…your existence is worth nothing.”

“What is it that you want?” he manages out, eyes on that flame.

“Who says I want anything?” you ask, feigning confusion and ignorance. It’s not hard. Xion and Roxas remind you of all the things you used to be, years ago. When you had a heart, when you didn’t have to feign emotion to prove a point. “Maybe I’m just doing my job.”

You take a step forward.

“Please,” Vexen says, but he’s retreating from you, tripping back. He’s not stupid. He knows a shield of ice will do nothing against two flying guillotines of pure flame. His hand flies out to try to stop you. “The hearts. Kingdom Hearts. You’ll need me for it.”

“Funny,” you say, almost charmingly merciful, except you’re not. You’re smiling. “Saïx never said anything about that.”

You’re bluffing. You don’t even know what Saïx says and it doesn’t matter at this point anyway.

“Another Keyblade bearer, then!”

It’s a thought that stops you in your tracks. “Another Keyblade bearer…?”

**You shouldn’t have reacted.**

He was scrambling away, but he stops once he realizes he has your interest—damn. “Ah—yes, I could. Another Keyblade bearer.”

You’ve never liked people too smart for their own good; his eyes narrow now, something you don’t like the look of.

“If you want to turn tail, I can help you,” he says, and he’s eerily calm, in possession of a knowledge that you won’t kill him now that you can use him.

“Sounds awfully convenient,” you say instead. “Preparing for your own little betrayal, Vexen?”

But no—you’ve lost the power you’ve had over him, the threat. “A funny thing, that. You possess no heart to bind you to him, and yet you’re so fond of them. An absence of heart that longs for one…”

Vexen smirks.

“You know, Vexen,” you say, raising your hand, calm. “I’ve always liked you. But you get on my nerves.”

**Do what it takes.**

He recognizes exactly what you intend to do. “No, stop! I really can make you one. Truly! The notes on my desk—“

“Well, in that case,” you say cheerfully, lowering your hand. “Can’t have you fade on me.”

You let him breathe and—

“Poof.” _Snap_ goes your fingers.

You light his entire being into flames. He fades to agony.

**Ha ha.**

You live.

**CONTINUE?**

 

V, VI.

Lexaeus eyes you surreptitiously as you slide over the notes from Vexen’s desk to Zexion. It’s no surprise he’s suspicious. You’re supposed to be at the other part of Castle Oblivion.

Vexen’s plans are moot. You found nothing interesting there; figures he’d be lying.

“Hm,” Zexion says, and it’s knowing.

“Thought you could use them,” you say casually. “Heard it from a little bird that this is all hush-hush.”

“How did you get these plans?” Zexion asks. He holds them up to light, but his hair still falls over one eye. “Vexen is very particular about who enters his labs. Light fingers would not have been overlooked.” His eye shifts from the diagrams to you; he slowly lowers the papers. “I see.”

“Sorry,” you say. “Couldn’t be helped.”

“He meant nothing to me,” Zexion says. “Simply a father figure.”

“I could argue that’d be reason enough to watch my back.” You don’t move, though. These two have always been more reasonable than the other members—but it’s undisputed too, that if you go through Zexion, Lexaeus might not be so kind. “Figured I’d mount up on insurance.”

“You want to run,” Zexion says suddenly. Uncannily sharp that way. “That seems rather telling.”

You glance back at him, then at Lexaeus who waits for you to make the move. He hasn’t said a word yet.

Zexion brushes his hair behind his ear. It’s obvious that everyone’s done here by now. “Here, for your efforts. My thanks.”

It’s a card. You catch it first, then you drag your eyes from his to look down at it.

“What’s this?” you ask, turning it this way and that.

“A world card to Destiny Islands,” Lexaeus says, arms folded.

**Destiny Islands, where it all began.**

There’s a beach there, if you remember correctly.

“Thanks,” you say.

You live.

**CONTINUE?**

 

VII.

Roxas and Xion, they wanted to go to the beach. Why not? Let them be happy, for once.

So you take care of the loose ends, and they get to enjoy collecting shells. You’ll join them later for sea salt ice cream, a little illusion of happiness. Xaldin will find you all. You and Roxas will fade, and Xion will be retrieved.

“Axel.”

**Don’t turn around, don’t acknowledge him.**

“That’s my name. Good to see you got it memorized.” You don’t think you’ve ever seen him outside of The World That Never Was in these past few years.

“You haven’t been reporting in.”

You have to laugh. “I’m losing my touch. _You_ , of all people, checking up on me?”

“I will act for the interest of the Organization.” Saïx’s eyes are yellow. They weren’t always that colour. “It’s far more than I can say for you.”

“You saying I’m replaceable?” you ask. That’s not what he’s saying, but you’ll imply it. Whatever you two had was an entire other lifetime away. “Gee, way to make a Nobody feel welcome. Good thing I don’t have a heart, or that’d hurt.”

“A fact, that despite your defection, still holds true.” Saïx stands before you, the expression on his face cool and unreadable.

“Missed me all that much, did you?” A part of you, really, is _touched._

“You will return Number XIII and XIV.”

The memories of a friendship long ago are distinct in their wake. You could never trick Isa, and it follows that you can’t trick Saïx. You can only throw him off the trail, make him doubt. He can’t know where the other two are.

They were _happy._

“Sure,” you reply, spreading your arms out wide. It comes out as it always does, mocking, but that’s what you always do; a flare for unnecessary dramatics with the laziest attitude. “Threaten all you like.”

“I see your cooperation will need to be negotiated.”

Saïx keeps that still calm face, but you know his tells. Known Isa’s because they were burnt hard into the memories of your body, even if yours clearly weren’t for Saïx’s.

You leap back, chakrams blazing at your fists just as fast as his claymore appears. Your flames to his rage.

“Sounds like a threat, Saïx,” you say conversationally.

**Fight Saïx.**

For a moment, you want to appeal to what was and what has been, but that’s a far cry from now, right? The two of you aren’t friends anymore.

The moment’s lost anyway. The sentimentality that Roxas taught you how to have was always your undoing.

“It’s a warning,” Saïx says, as you lie flat on the ground, impaled. His Beserker Nobodies surround you, until all you can hear is the solemn monotones of his voice in the darkness. “One that you never heeded.”

You fade.

**DEAD END.**

 

VIII.

Maybe this is Nobody Hell.

It would make some kind of sense. Nobodies are the echoes of the Somebodies whose hearts are weak enough to fall to the darkness. And if you die without a heart, all you have left are the memories. If the body dies, where are those memories going to go?

Just over and over again.

There is, you think as you sit up, some kind of weird poeticism to it. You’re tired. So tired.

**Burn yourself alive once Roxas disappears.**

Except you’re not that self-sacrificing.

**So do it for Sora.**

**There are always constants.**

**“I think I liked it better when they were on my side,”** you hear yourself say. The Dusks are so numerous. Were there always this many?

Sora’s back is close; if you blink you could’ve thought it was Roxas’s. **“Feeling a little…regret?”**

The hesitation is longer this time.

You do.

You regret everything.

You regret hurting Roxas and now Roxas is gone.

 **“Nah,”** you say. **“I can handle these punks. Watch this.”**

You fade.

**DEAD END.**

 

IX.

“Axel,” Demyx says, “I don’t want to do this.”

“We got to do what we got to do,” you respond dully. You’re going through the motions again. If you can see Roxas again, fine. That’s all you need. “Unless you want to be turned into a Dusk for it?”

“What? No! Definitely not.” Demyx looks outside the tall windows, and he’s so good, so, so good at feigning emotions that you could almost believe all of him is authentic. “Uggghhhh why couldn’t they have picked you?”

But he isn’t Roxas, and because he isn’t, you can read him like the Nobody book he is.

“Castle Oblivion duty, remember?”

Demyx frowns, and looks down at his paper. “Saïx gave me instructions too.”

“Good for you,” you say. “Want some advice?”

“Huh? Yeah. Sure.”

“Follow Saïx’s script.”

**While you follow your own.**

By now, you’ve got this whole thing as memorized as the name the boss gave you.

**CONTINUE?**

 

X.

There are constants that stay the same, just as there are things that don’t.

You don’t know what to do with the ones that don’t, but you’re plenty proactive. Improvisation’s your third name, after _You_ and _Organization XIII_.

Xion’s glassy-eyed and her gaze is vacant before you lug her over your shoulder. She collapsed in Castle Oblivion, as though her puppeteer’s strings had been cut. You know better than to think of her as a puppet—but.

She feels distant and far off to you. It gets harder to remember why you meant it each time.

**But you keep your promises, don’t you?**

Luxord’s sitting relaxed in the centre room when you exit the Corridor. His legs are crossed on the table, and hovering in front of him are two rows of five cards each. He flicks a finger and one switches places with another. He snaps his fingers, and they all settle into a nice, loose pile on the table beside his shoes.

He was Roxas’s friend, but the two of you never really talk. You can’t remember a time when you’ve needed to, outside of the hooded formalities of meetings. Maybe a card game or two.

It surprises you, then, when he says, “Do you know what it is that they say about inevitabilities of time?”

You stop. “What, that he gossips?”

He doesn’t look at you, but his arm is swept out now in your direction. Rows and rows of the backs of his cards slide before you. “And what shall we say describes such a maverick? Pick a card, Number VIII.”

“The name’s Axel,” you say, out of habit, and pluck one out, rotating it from back to front with your fingers. “I’d have thought Time forgets Nobody.”

“Joker,” Luxord identifies, from the couch where he hasn’t moved. He slides a finger into the air and your card returns to him. “How deliberately and marvelously ambiguous.”

“A card that most card games don’t even need?” You shift Xion more comfortably on your shoulder. She’s light. Nobodies have weight and substance, but she seems almost non-existent. One blink, perhaps, and she’d never be here. “Sounds as clear as you can get.”

“A wild card that can replace the existence of other cards. Beneficial or detrimental? A trump card or a losing one?” Luxord rises slowly. “An excellent representation of our apocryphal organization in its workings.”

“Okay, how about this?” You slide a grin on your face. “You really want to do this when I’ve got Number XIV on my shoulder? Could be you next.”

Luxord’s eyes are blue and piercing, not at all like the stronger hue of Roxas’s.

“You are running out of time,” he says cryptically, and follows it with a laugh as your card disappears into the deck, your entire fortune as read by a gambler. “Perhaps that’s what you wanted?”

You live.

**CONTINUE?**

 

XI, XII.

You avoid Castle Oblivion. Your order was to eliminate the traitors—don’t exactly have to be present for that; Sora’s got his Keyblade enough to deal with them himself. When Roxas is a Nobody and not a Somebody, well.

You like that better, anyway.

You live.

**CONTINUE?**

 

XIII.

You get angry.

You always do.

You’re charming, but you’re not flawless. You were Lea, but Axel takes his own initiatives and pre-empted risk-gambles.

**If there is an inch of darkness, it will consume the light.**

Roxas kills you and you let it happen, because you’ve got a next life that goes over and over and over and over and over again and maybe sometimes all you want is just to see him again. All you did want was a chance to.

This was what you wanted, after all. Just to see him again.

And now you will, always.

“Axel,” Roxas says quietly. His voice was always soft in the quieter moments, when the permanent sunset touched the skies of the clock tower, and it was just the two of you. There is a missed connection of a tactile intimacy of less than a year. He still doesn’t remember everything, but beggars really can’t be choosers. “Why?”

There are twelve numbers on a clock, and Roxas’s doesn’t exist amongst them.

 “Could ask that myself,” you tell him. When Sora asked, you answered the honest truth.

**Pitiful Nobody.**

You fade.

**DEAD END.**

XIII.

**You don’t need Roxas.**

You’re using Roxas as a destination and a means to an end, but it isn’t until the third loop on this route where you keep valuing him that you realize maybe it’s not Roxas who needs to change his mind. Roxas who needs to see that you’re doing this for his own good. Roxas who, can’t you see, just come. Trust.

**Maybe you need to trust him, or maybe you just didn’t need him after all.**

The words, once they cross your mind, hold little sense as much as they hold all of them. You’re a smart person, Axel. Don’t talk to yourself. That’s creepy.

Corridors of Darkness are a bit tricky. Hard to explain if you’re unfamiliar. Think of wound up springy-tunnels and tripping on a lot of the magic mushrooms in Wonderland. Nobodies can travel the corridors no problem, but the special snowflake uniforms mean they can’t really be touched by the darkness they were born from.

Everybody knows a little darkness is good for the body if you want to grow up a little, but too much would risk a heart. Good thing you have no heart, but it doesn’t make navigating any easier.

Roxas…

 **“You’re early,** ” you say.

Roxas smiles at you, looks like he was looking forward to your reappearance.  **“No, you’re just late.”**

You try to memorize it, just like Roxas has memorized the number of days it’s been since he’s joined the Organization. You try to soak it all in, the talk about him being a zombie, the lightness of the atmosphere, the way he makes you feel like you do have a heart. The sort of slight push and jab.

**You have a heart and it beats to the sound of silence.**

Which is to say, there is no heart at all because it’s nothing but a gaping space, and a poetic metaphor you could do without.

“Roxas,” you say. It’s Day 255. In a few hours, Xion will know what she is and run. On Day 298, the two of you will find Xion. You’ll fight her and bring her back and Roxas will be furious with you. It won’t be like this again. “You trust me, right?”

“If you haven’t poisoned the ice cream, yeah.” Roxas, as it always is, gets to the heart of it. He sobers, at your lack of a smile. “Is everything okay? You can talk to me.”

You’re tempted to joke about it. You’ve never let him in on anything. All these runs, all these loops. Repeat and rinse, trying to find a combination that works.

“Hypothetically,” you begin. You could talk to him about so many hypotheticals. Like why he won’t come with you when you ask in the virtual Twilight Town. Why he always defends Xion with such a strong heart when she can come later, because you did promise that you’d always bring both of them back. Why he doesn’t value this friendship like you do. And then: “Nah, now I’m just being silly.”

You don’t realize how frustrating it’s been for you because things have been working as clockwork, and getting Roxas back has always been the goal. Roxas wouldn’t understand it anyway; Roxas thinks with his heart.

“Axel,” Roxas says, and he’s staring down at his ice cream since he’s gotten it, while you’ve just already bit half of yours clean off.

“Mm?” Cold, sea salt on your tongue and around your teeth.

“You’d tell me, right?” Roxas stares out now to the eternal sunset, the blue of his eyes pilfering the colours. “If I could help you. You’re my friend.”

It’s all for Roxas.

“Okay,” you say. “No take backs, though.”

**You’re deviating.**

No. Shut up. Roxas is looking at you curiously.

“If you wanted to run away,” you say. “If you could go anywhere, where would you go?”

“I don’t know,” Roxas confesses. He’s always honest. He feels what he feels, he knows what he knows. He doesn’t hide, he doesn’t deceive. “I like it here.”

You do too, but all good things must come to an end.

**You can’t tell Roxas.**

You live.

**CONTINUE?**

 

XIV.

Xion always runs. Roxas turns his back on the Organization to find Sora every time. You try again and again and again, and you’re _sick of it._

**Minus Roxas.**

**Try without Roxas.**

It’s easier than you think, actually. To leave Roxas at the end and not take him with you. Because you know, by now, through trial and error, that it comes back to him. Always back to Roxas and you’re not sure whether or not to be relieved or worried about it. About Roxas, your dependence on him.

Can’t be healthy, right, when he’s all up in his own little world and can’t be bothered to remember that you don’t do things if you don’t want to do them.

**Roxas can’t be bothered to remember about you, so you should leave him.**

You leave him alone and go after Xion. You promised her first; Roxas never knew about it, and honestly, you can’t be bothered to explain yourself.

That isn’t how you work.

“What about Roxas?” Xion asks you as she follows you through the Corridor.

“Saïx’s got him all knotted up in missions.” You should be ashamed about how easily these lies sprout out. “We can surprise him later, if you change your mind.”

**The ends justify the means.**

“Axel?” Xion asks, as the two of you step onto the beach. You drink in the sight of a sunset overlooking the waves of Destiny Islands and think Twilight Town was better.

But the Somebodies live and the Nobodies fade. That’s how it always works out.

You stretch. “Yeah?”

She’s a small girl. Hard to figure out Vexen even created her, just like it’s hard to wrap your head around the pseudo-science of messing with Sora’s memories or creating a clone of Sora’s Riku or even Naminé’s poignant existence and power.

In that moment, you think you could see a superimposition; of her, and someone else. Her facelessness dances in your vision for a few moments before you blink it away. You force her memory into your eyes.

“Thank you,” Xion says. She’s cast orange by the glow, but she doesn’t look like she belongs here at all. Her smile is watery. “Thank you for always trying for us.”

You don’t respond, but that’s alright.

Xion returns to Sora, and you can pretend she knew. That you aren’t alone in this endless repetition.

You live.

**CONTINUE?**

 

-VIII.

You know it. You know that gaping, ugly maw.

It doesn’t look a thing like a kid named Lea. Not as handsome, maybe. Kind of scrawny. Takes you aback, before you stare at it, plaintive.

This is your Heartless and it looks terrifyingly weak. It shrivels in the same darkness that gave form to you, and shies away from the ring of fire you’ve trapped it in.

For a moment, you almost think to yourself that if you—who knows—bring it with you somehow, just keep it, you’ll be back together. You’ll be Lea again.

But how temporary would it be?

One minute, your Heartless is there—you could almost feel sorry for it.

The next, it fades; and the Sorcerer that killed it returns to the darkness.

**This isn’t the end for you. Just the beginning.**

**CONTINUE?**

 

I.

“What is death to a Nobody when there is no feeling, no emotion to be had?” Xemnas asks. He’s in his large chair, the one that sits highest than the emptier ones in this bare and cold castle. A false prophet of dreams, and a man who was never a god to you, but sounded too knowing to be anything but.

“You tell me,” you say. “I hear fading’s all the rage these days.”

“We are but empty shells, ever seeking to fill the space of our lost hearts.” He contemplates the big Heart in the sky. “Mournful and pitiful, our husks fade into the darkness of our birth.”

Xemnas will only call you in specific situations. When Saïx is busy, for one. For another, when Sora never makes it this far. Sometimes, he never needs to, because DiZ—and Ansem the Wise, for that matter—is dead.

In this run, everyone has faded and you are the only two left.

“Where do Nobodies go when they fade?” Xemnas asks you. “No,” he interrupts himself, and peers at you suddenly, as though he’s never seen you before. “ **You know.** ”

“Know what?” you say, but your skin’s prickling.

“ **Pitiful Nobody** ,” he says, “ **for how long have you wandered the nothingness I control?** ”

You don’t have an answer, because at that moment, the other chairs fill one by one with the cloaks of Organization XIII. Even XIII, but VIII is the only one that’s missing.

“You know what I hate?” you say, crouching. Your chakram spit fire as they burn their way back into the Somebody plane of existence. “Surprises. I always seem to get one. Flurry of dancing bad ends. A guy could complain, you know.”

You jerk automatically once one of the cloaked figures—exactly eleven—pull down their hood. “Well,” you say, “I guess I should’ve seen this coming.”

You live.

**CONTIN**

**“Ah, ah, ah,”** says another, who pulls down the hood of her cloak, finger tutting. Larxene’s yellow eyes glimmer dispassionately at you. “ **No more redos, Axel. Can’t have that.** ” ~~~~

You ignore her, despite the unease you are now drowning in. “Xigbar.”

“ **Bra _vo_ ,** **Flameslilocks,** ” Xigbar jeers. **“I mean, not that any of us thought you were that good at following orders. And to think all it took was a few suggestions.”**

The voice in your head this entire time, that’s been telling you things. It’s a voice—not your own thoughts. Never were. “That voice was you.”

“ **Oh man.”** Xigbar claps. Slowly. “ **I almost want to give you pity points for being so wrong.”**

“What are you saying?”

 “ **Let me spell it out for you.** ” Xigbar disappears from his seat and stands before you, playfully light with his gun-rifle of choice. **“We vessels have a lot more _important_ things to do than stand around and comment on your little martyr sessions. There was only one of us who really bothered. Sure, I chimed in once—loved what you did to the old goat, by the way. Loved it. Best bit of unnecessary violence after my own** ,” he laughs, “ **heart.”**

You’re barely listening to him at this point. There’s only one person who would’ve ever spoken to you like that; and if you recognize it, then maybe…

Saïx looks at you, gaze blank from under his hood, and all you can think of is the possibilities of what once was.

And if Isa really could still be there.

“Vessel,” you repeat, and your hand clenches onto your chakram.

Saïx hasn’t reacted to the word; none of them do. And that’s it—that’s what they are. Empty husks. Nobodies are body and soul without a heart—

Saïx’s eyes are flat, empty, as if unseeing, as if waiting some unspoken command.

**You can’t even die. It’s a puppet’s existence.**

“Sorry to say, but I don’t share well.” Your skin is crawling. “Prime piece of estate, but Not For Sale.”

 **“Non-negotiable** ,” Xigbar says. **“It took us too _waaay_ long to track you down for the welcome party."**

Unlike that first run, Xemnas doesn’t kill you like he did. He stays where he is, contemplative. “ **Alas** ,” he says, pitying, “ **If you had only believed in my plans.”**

You raise an arm and point the chakram at him. “Sorry—I’ve seen where they ended.” You’ve seen where you’ve ended. You’ve seen where half the Organization ends.

“ **So you have** ,” he muses. “ **But do you know further? Do you know all endings that matter to you? Will Roxas possess a second life? Does she continue to walk the darkness? Will I—** ”

Xemnas’s voice does not falter, but the volume lessens as he touches the space where his heart was. Fake sorrow blooms so iridescently on his face you could almost believe he had one of his own.

“— **will he ever wake up, that child?”**

He’s lost in his world, a King of Nothingness and Nobody.

Without anything more, Xemnas flickers away from his seat, leaving it abandoned with no use for his throne. None of the other Nobodies seem to chase after him.

They’re here for you.

“Don’t I feel special,” you say. “We should play Choice again sometime soon.”

 **"Can't you take a hint?"** Xigbar stares at you with his lone eye. **"You don't have a choice. Never had. This is bigger than you, Red. Your body and that old coot’s heart put together? The Organization's going to live again."**

"You've waited all this time?" you ask. "That's so sweet. Any employment benefits? New uniform?" Your eyes cast to Saïx who remains wordless. "New...best friends?"

This is you now, as Axel: Always been out to save your own skin. Never sticking your neck out for anybody else’s.

**You need to run. There is no continue this time. There is no dead end.**

You grin, lackluster and with full teeth, and for a moment, you feel like Lea again.

 **“Better get me memorized,”** you say cheerfully.

This is where it matters.

You run, your form partially concealed by the flickers of the Corridor of Darkness. It could be a coward’s move, it could be strategic. But all you know is that you’re damn well not staying around to find out more.

Of course, there’s no part to breathe, no redo. No revamp. The loop always repeats in different places, never the same; depends on how far you got the last run, depends on things you still don’t understand.

The thing about the Corridors of Darkness is that they weaken Hearts. For Nobodies who still possess nothing, that’s fine. For you who still has no Heart, that’s fine.

The next moment, you’re gasping on the ground, this time on your front instead of your back. You’re still in the Corridor of Darkness; you’re still—

When you look back, you see two red blades pinning you down. One right in the middle of your body, as though you were an insect to be dissected. Another, you feel it tug as you desperately turn to look up: it’s where your heart— _your beating, alive heart_ —exists now.

Xemnas kneels down to you, eyes orange; a stolen permanence of sunset as you’ve seen it from Twilight Town’s clocktower in those halcyon days. **“Put an end to this.”**

You’re fading.

And when Nobodies fade, they die.

**FINAL END.**

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

…But a Somebody will live.

Your vision hazes into existence.

Your hand. Is that your hand?

**“Where…what happened to me?”**

You don’t remember anything, but you know this.

Axel is dead. And your name is Lea.

**NEW START.**

 

**Author's Note:**

> Using this fic to count for my FREE SPACE slot for [Trope Bingo](http://trope-bingo.dreamwidth.org/) as Wildcard/Timetravel.
> 
> This is written for the [Kingdom Hearts Worlds Connected zine](http://kh-worldsconnected.tumblr.com/), the full uncut version. I skimmed the other fics and art in the #worldsconnected tag, and honestly, I'm very blown away by the amount of talent that exists in this fandom. I feel so blessed I could be a part of this, and feel so humbled. I could cry. I _am_ crying.
> 
> If you want to just head directly to accompanying art (to be linked), skip the following paragraph. If not, hello, please read as I blubber about Jay.
> 
> Like all my KH fanfic, this is for [Jay](yourhandiheld), the most perfect, the most talented, best person in the world, MY STARSHINE WHO DESERVES THE UNIVERSE AND SO MUCH LOVE, THE ROXAS TO MY AXEL, axel-lea, MY TWIN FLAME WHO INTRODUCED ME TO KINGDOM HEARTS and to whom I am forever grateful. She grammar and developmental beta'd this into coherence and helped me polish it to the beautiful thing that it is, and I am so, so grateful to her, because without her enthusiasm, this fic would not be done. I am indebted to her, she is life, she is salvation, she is the glorious reason the skies and the earth meet, why the tides stretch out to the moon only to lose sight halfway and spit in the face of science. If you're reading this, starshine, (and I know you are), YOU ARE A DREAM, I AM BLESSED WITH YOUR FRIENDSHIP, AND I LOVE THIS LIFE BC YOU ARE IN IT!! THIS WAS MAJOR FUN TO DO WITH YOU!! I want to further embarrass you with declarations of how much I love you, but unfortunately, you won't pee in a bottle or your lawn, so, cheers. I BELIEVE IN YOU ALWAYS!!
> 
> (Jay was also my artist for the event, which [please check out so much](http://yourhandiheld.tumblr.com/post/149544648567) because SHE'S SO TALENTED!!! HER ART'S SO GOOD! S L A M PHOENIX DOWN ON MY UTTERLY OVERWHELMED AND DEAD BODY!!! HER TABLET WAS DAMN SKIPPING OUT ON HER, HER PORES WERE CLOSING DOWN, HER LIFE WAS SPIRALING INTO CHAOS BUT LOOK AT IT!!THINK OF PAIN AND SUFFERING AND AXEL)


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